Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1887-04-29
S,PHIRY ANN.

cabin. with an entry separating the
rooms, and low ungainly chlmueys
at each end. Below it the Cartecay
river Law like an amber ribbon In the
green, fertile valley; above it lowered
majestic mountain heights, shrouded
in silver mists or yelled in a blue
haze. The Standneges were bred and
born mountaineers, and had drl;ted
into the little cove while Iudian camp
fires were still glowing like stars in
the valley of the Cartecay and Indian
wipwams Gotting the rivers banks.
The house had q weatherbeaten look,
and the noble chestnut oaks shading
it had covered tie roof with a fine
green mold. :.
The kitchen, a heavy looking,
smoke backened structure with
puncheon floor, stood just in the rear
of the house, and so situated that from
the door one could look through the
entry to the front gate and the noun
road beyond.
Mrs Standnege sat in the kitchen
door one morning with bottles AID
bean bags scattered around her
.sortin" ont seed beans She was a
woman rot much beyond middle age,
but lean and yellow, with faded eyes
and scant dun colored hair, time and
toll and diet having robbed her of the
last remnant of youth, without giving
her a lovely old age. She was q
good type Of the average mountain
woman, illiterate but independent,
and contented with her scant home
spun dress, he's S--ae and her bean
bags.
a heavy cid loom occupied one
corner of the kitchen, and Polly, the
eldest daughter, sat on the high
bench before it, industriously weav-
ing, while S'phiry Ann stood by the
smoke stained mantel, watching the
pine she had laid on the FIRE burst
into a livid flame. A bundle of
clothes lay at her feet, surmounted by
a round, fat gourd, filed with brown,
JeiIy-llhe solP' -,
Polly was the eldest and she the
Youngest of eight children, but the
others all lay safely and peacefully
in the little neglected burial ground
at the foot OF the mountain. She
was unlike mother and sister She
had youth, she was supple and fair,
her hair dark and abundant, ber eyes
gray and clear. She had the soft,
drawing voice, but also had a full
share of the sturdy independence of
her race. The circumstances of her
christening, Mrs Standneges was
rather fond Of relating.
Eyes, S'phiry Ann is er uncommon
name," she would say, not without a
touch of complaceny, "but her pap
gin it tn her She was a month old
to day, when that travelin' preacher
came through here an held meetin'
fer brother Danl on Sunday. He
preached mostly about them liars
droppin' dead at tie 'postles' feet, and
Standnege came home all but persess-
ed about it, an nothin'ed do but he
mus name the baby S'phiry Ann in
stead er Sarry Ann as we'uns had
thought. He lowed it sarved them
onprincipled folks right to die, an' ne
wanted somethin' ter remin' him o.
that sermont Well, amt desputin'
but it was right, but | tole Standnege
then, an / say so yit, that eff all the
liars in the world war tux oIten it,
thar wouldn't be many folks left"
S'phiry Ann bad heard of the fate
of the Sapphira figuring in sacred his
tory; it had been deeply impressed
on her mind 10 her tenderest years, and
might possibly have left deep i'm
preston, for she grew up to be sin
gularly truthful, upright girl. Just
now, as she leaned against the mantel
and stared at the fire, her face wore
all unwontedly grave expression.
Folks as set themselves up ter be
better'n they ekals air mighty apt tn
git tux down, S'phiry Ann" said her
mother, evidently resuming a CONVEX
sation dropped a short time before.
"But amt a-settin' up ter be bet
term my ekals, ma" said S'phiry
Ann, gently but defensively.
at 'peared like nothin' else yister-
day when you'uns so p'intedly walk
ed away from Gahe Plummer at
meetin', an it the fust time you'uns
had seed him since comm from yer
aunt Thomas over in Boondtown set
tlemint. Thar amt no call ter treat
Gabe So"
"But amt we hearn he's tux up
with them distillers on the noun
tains?' said the girl in a low tone, a
deep flush overspreading her face.
Eyes, we'uns have heard it, but
what O. that? Many a gal has tux
jest sech."
can glad to get 'em too," snapped
Polly sharply, stopping to tie up a
broken thread.
"Gabe Plummer is er uncommon
steddy boy. He's er master hand at
en'thiny he wants ter do, am"
But S'phiry Ann did not lingcr to
hear the full enumeration of her low
er's virtues. Hastily balancing the
bundle of slothes on her head, she
took up the blazing torch, and hurried
to the spring, a crystal clear stream,
running out of q ledge of rock and
slipping away through dark ravine
to the river. If she imagined she
had escaped all reproaches for her rep
rehensible conduct the day before, it
was sad mistake. Hardly had the
fire been kindled and the rusty iron
kettle filled with water, when a
young man came treading heavily
through the laurel thicket above the
spring, leaped down the crag and sa-
luted her.
"Mornin', S'phiry Ann"
"Mornin', Gabe," she said, blush
ing vividly and busying herself piling
unnecessary fuel Oh the fire.
He was fine specimen of the
mountaineer, 1.-THE, well made, tough
ened to hardy endurance, with taw-
ny hair falling to his collar and skin
bronzed to a deep brown. He wore
no coat, and his shirt was homespun,
his neither garments of coarse brown
jeans He carried gun, and shot
bag and powder horn were slung car
lessly across his shoulders.